


Find Yourself On Bridges Across Time

by Whynotitsfun



Series: What If? [3]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventually all will be well but it takes a while, Family, Gen, Grief, Major Characters Have Died Prior to the Story's Events, Science Fiction, The Monroe Children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whynotitsfun/pseuds/Whynotitsfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story begins twelve years after the events of Rebuild Yourself Slowly. Monroe has five children ages 14 and under, Connor has two children of his own. Miles will always be Miles; Aaron and Priscilla are still a part of their family. Over the years, the farm they were left has become a true enterprise and the Monroe family is well off indeed. The only resource Bass cannot provide his children is that of their mother... Or, can he? What happens when a force that is as powerful as any god sees from afar the struggle of a man who just wants to be there for his family but is unable to let go of the past and the one person that made his world whole? Unashamed flashforwards, flash backs and flash sideways (a la Lost or Frequency even...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2044...

**Author's Note:**

> : Yeah, I’m probably going to annoy people with this one… The idea came from the opening scene and it just kind of built from there. This isn’t going to be a straight forward narrative but will go forward and backwards in time quite a bit. Although there is an underlying “plot” so to speak, or at least a reason for this, at times it will be a lot of memories and windows into the lives of the Monroe family as time progresses (with a few scenes that occurred during Rebuild Yourself but may not have been shown).   
> It’s all probably OOC for Miles and Bass, but they’re quite a bit older throughout a lot of this, so please forgive me for that. I don’t know if this is exactly another sequel but it does exist in the same universe as Lose Yourself and Rebuild Yourself.   
> The subject matter is sad at times, it’s supposed to be. Again the entire thing started with a scene that popped in my head of Bass having an argument with his oldest daughter about what was age appropriate for a girl her age and having to deal with a temperamental teenager, and how he’d handle it…   
> This is Charloe in a sense that she will always be his, but obviously there is very little smut at least at first. For one thing, as our story unfolds he’s almost 62 years old. Don’t get me wrong, there are some men that at that age are still gorgeous, but the idea of writing smut for someone nearing retirement age is kind of squicky for me (although this Bass has aged gracefully…) All character dates are for the most part only a part of this universes Canon, although the birth years for all of the main characters listed (accept Gene Porter) are from the show’s canon, although I’ve made up the months and days where I felt necessary (Bass’ middle name was one I made up at the beginning of Lose Yourself)  
> I’ve tried to go through the other two stories and straightened out the dates the best I could, but if I’ve screwed something up, please accept my apologies (the names of some of the townsfolk, including names of the children’s peers I just kind of made up with disregard to the parents because I could spend hours trying to get it just so otherwise… The story assumes that there are Carter and Andersons all over the place between cousins and kids etc that have grown up with the Monroe Children…)  
> Please see the end of the story for a list of all dates that may be relevant for the rest of the story. And please, all is not lost between our favorite couple… I’ve decided not to go Nano crazy the way I am in Ends and Beginnings. The Nano in this universe are always in the background. God like to be sure, but are neither malicious or benevolent. They just are, and they are very curious indeed.

_June 30, 2044_

                “I said no, and that’s final.” Sebastian Monroe said as he slammed the pan down on the stove.

                “But all of my friends will be there. Why not?” Angela Grace Monroe whined.

                He turned to his daughter and sighed, his expression softening. “You’re fourteen, Angie. You’re too young to go into town by yourself—let alone spend the night there.”

                “It’s not fair! Kelsey Anderson gets to go! I don’t get to do anything.” She bent forward burying her head in her arms on the kitchen table.

                “Kelsey Anderson is two years older than you. I told you, I’m sorry; but I’ve got two mares getting ready to foal. With Aaron and your older brother still in Austin, I can’t leave the farm.” In truth, he hated going into town now, but he’d never admit it aloud, and the summer dance in town was a sore spot as well. Charlie had always loved going.

                She shot up from her chair. “Mom would have let me go!” She ignored the pained look on her father’s face at the mention of her mother.

                Bass turned away from her under the pretense of putting bacon in the pan. “Go to your room,” he said softly, feeling lost and defeated.

                Angie just glared at him. “I hate you!” she screamed before turning and running from the room.

                Bass pulled the pan off of the stove so it wouldn’t burn and sat down at the table, jumping in his chair a little at the sound of the bedroom door slamming. The urge to go after her and tell her exactly what he thought about her tantrum was overwhelming, so he fought against it and took a few breaths  until he had his temper well in hand.

                Yes, Charlie would have let her go; she’d have taken her to the dance herself. She’d have done a lot of things, but she wasn’t here so his children were stuck with him. And yes, maybe he was being a little overprotective. How could anyone blame him?

                “I take it that Hurricane Angie has dissipated for the moment?” Miles said as he came into the kitchen. The second he’d seen Angie cornering her father by the stove, he’d made a beeline for the safety of the barn.

                “Oh I’m sure this is just the calm before the next storm,” Bass said sadly as he got up and went back to the stove to get the bacon started again.

                “You know she doesn’t mean it. She’s just being a teenager,” he offered.

                “She’s so much like her mom.” She may have inherited his dark curls and resembled his sisters, but in every other way, she was pure Charlie. His voice cracked as he mentioned his late wife. It had been two and a half years since the cancer had taken Charlie away from him, but the ache of it was still raw on mornings like this. It just wasn’t fair. He was so much older than her—she wasn’t supposed to have gone first. She was only thirty-four when the universe had played its cruel joke on him and stolen her.

                Bass blinked away the tears that threatened and went about getting breakfast on the table for the kids. Priscilla had already gone over to the new bunkhouse and gotten the hands fed. With thirty men to feed they’d decided that when they built the bigger building that a kitchen was mandatory. By now she’d be in the dairy, which she’d taken over after Charlie had gotten sick.

                Over the years since the war, they’d taken Daniel Forrester’s gift of the farm and had built it up. It had already been the largest farm in the area but now it was really something to behold. The stables were known throughout Kentucky for producing the finest mounts that money could buy. The contract with the Texas Rangers had been renewed indefinitely, which guaranteed that even in leaner years his family would never starve.

                Charlie had expanded on her dairy little by little too. When the newly formed U.S. Government had the railway system fully operational, the milk and cheese they produced found its way all over the region. She’d been right that it would bring in a lot of money, but then it seemed she was always right when she had an idea. Between the two of them, they’d built up their little “empire” and their family was more than well off.

                All in all, before Charlie had gotten sick, their lives couldn’t have been better. Sure, they’d suffered a few blows. Rachel had been taken by influenza six years ago, with Gene following not long after at the age of 82. It had been a rough time, especially for Charlie having lost her mother and grandfather within less than six months of each other. But, they’d made it through and had kept going—until the day she collapsed on the way across the yard…

                _August 15, 2041_

                _Bass is working with one of the yearlings. He has the young filly going in circles on her lead, watching her movements carefully. This one promises to be a real beauty. Her lines are perfect and he’s quite proud of this one. He’s already decided to keep her. When this girl is ready for riding, she’s going to make an excellent mount for his eldest daughter._

_Angie has already shown that she shares her father’s love of horses, and at ten years old, she’s already an accomplished rider. The girl had fallen in love with this animal from the moment she was born and has taken to calling her Phoenix. Bass will formally give the animal to her for her birthday in the fall, but everyone knows that Phoenix is already hers._

_He allows the animal to slow, having gone through her paces, it’s time to let her cool down. He sees Charlie coming in from the dairy. She smiles at him, waving. Still head over heels in love with her after all these years, he beams back at her. He looks back to Phoenix just for a moment before he sneaks another quick peek at his pretty young wife. It is then that it happens. She stops walking and wavers for a second before falling to the ground._

_“Charlie!” He drops the lead he’s holding and jumps over the fence, racing over to her. Within moments he’s on his knees before her. He pulls her over to him, turning her over and cradling her head in his lap. She’s unconscious but within a few minutes she starts to come to._

_“Bass?” She’s panting, like she can’t catch her breath._

_Miles is coming out of the stillhouse, having just spent the morning getting a new batch set up. He sees them in the yard just as Bass is picking her up in his arms. He doesn’t even have to ask; They share a look and then Miles runs to the stables and prepares a mount. After barking an order to a stable hand to tend to Phoenix, he’s on the road, galloping at breakneck speed for town._

_Despite protests that she’s fine and just got a little dizzy, Bass forces Charlie to stay in bed until the doctor gets there. Doc Lundy examines her carefully. He finds the lump under her arm. He pulls Bass aside to tell him his suspicions. “Without being able to give her an MRI or X-Ray, this is purely guesswork, but I am suspecting cancer—most likely breast cancer.”_

_Bass feels his whole world start to collapse around him. “Can’t you remove it or do… something? I can’t lose her, Doc.”_

_“I’ve got a friend in Memphis. He’s retired now, but he was an oncologist before the blackout. I’ll send my nephew for him on the morning train and see if there’s something we can do,” he offers._

_August Henderson comes at once and confirms Lundy’s diagnosis. Charlie agrees to allow them to try and remove what they can. They know it’s a long shot, but it’s worth it. They find out rather early into the surgery that it’s too late. The cancer has spread. If they’re right, she’d collapsed and was having trouble breathing because it has gotten into her lung._

_Over the next several months, with no other treatments available, she slowly wastes away. He buries her just a few days before their eleventh wedding anniversary. As Bass watches her coffin being lowered into the grave, he feels like he’s died right along with her, but time and family have a way of healing things._

_After a few months of drinking his pain away, wishing he could join her, he pulls himself out of it. She wouldn’t have wanted them to lose himself in a bottle again, not like he’d done when he’d come home from the war. She’d have wanted him to carry on and be there for their children and fight to keep the life they’d built together, so this is what he’s done._

“Daddy, you’re burning the bacon!”

                He shook himself out of his reverie to find seven-year old Charlotte staring at him with concern. “Shit!” He grabbed the tongs and started pulling the strips out before they got blacker. So lost had he been in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed Miles had retreated once more.

                Despite is insistence on the name Sebastian Jr., his youngest child’s gender had prevented that one. He’d been in Austin negotiating a new contract with the Rangers when Charlie had gone into labor a month early. When he’d returned he had discovered that in moment of whimsy, she’d named the baby Charlotte. He couldn’t have his junior, but it hadn’t meant she couldn’t—and to add insult to injury she’d even taken the liberty of choosing the middle name Junior, just to toy with him.

                To be sure, her namesake was a mini-Charlie if he’d ever seen one. By the time she turned four, anyone that had known his wife when she was a child was pointing it out. Indeed, she’d been an exact copy of the little girl he remembered from all those years before the blackout.

                “Morning, CJ,” he said, kissing her on top of her wavy ashen mop when she came over to give him a hug. She was every bit as stubborn as her older sister and mother, but she was so much quieter. Aaron insisted that she was just like her late uncle in that regard. Danny Matheson had always been quiet and gentle whereas his sister had been a volatile force of nature.

                “Morning, Daddy,” she beamed. Always perceptive, CJ could tell her father was upset this morning, and if the slam of her sister’s bedroom door was of any indication, she knew exactly why. “Want help?” she offered.

                “Why don’t you go set the table?” he asked gently as he reached for the bowl of eggs he’d cracked so he could beat them and get them started. “It’s just you girls and miles and me,” he told her.

                Being summer, Danny and Chance had already taken off for the day. They’d likely eaten with the farmhands before spending the morning helping out. By lunch time they’d probably take off into the woods for the rest of the day. Despite their three year age difference, Bass’ youngest two sons were as thick as thieves.

                He was sure that as Danny got older that would change a little. At some point girls would replace fishing and tree forts as his primary interests in life, but for the time being Danny was content to roam the farm and surrounding countryside like a heathen with his kid brother.

                With breakfast on the table, Miles and CJ joined him. A few minutes later, Hope appeared. “Angie says she’s not hungry,” she announced as she sat down. Having to share a room with her temperamental older sister proved that his twelve-year old daughter had the patience of a saint; and with her platinum blonde hair and pale blue eyes, she had the looks of one too.

                Bass knew he’d be in trouble with this one in a few years. As she slowly matured over the past year, he’d noticed a few of Danny’s friends looking at her a little differently. By the time she was Angie’s age, he had a feeling he’d have to be chasing the boys away from her. That was something he was not looking forward too. Angie was different. She was beautiful in her own way (and that wasn’t just a parent’s pride), but with her mother’s temper he never had to worry about some boy taking advantage of her. A complete tomboy, she’d much rather be punching her male peers than kissing them. On the other hand, his Hope was so sweet natured that he’d always have to worry about her.

                “Of course she isn’t,” he mumbled. He was sure Angie would pout for a few hours before deciding to join the rest of the world once more. “So, what are you two up to today?” he asked, changing the subject.

                “Katie said she’d teach me how to work with oils this week,” Hope began. Her older sister-in-law had taken his middle daughter under her artistic wing. “Can I go over to the Carter’s today?”

                Katie and Connor had recently moved back in with Katie’s family after her father had gotten on in years. Ten years older than Bass, Avery was slowing down and couldn’t handle the place on his own. Connor split his time between both farms, but eventually he’d take over the Carter’s place permanently.

                “I want to go too! Sarah and I are working on a very important project!” Charlotte interjected. Although technically Sarah was her niece, she and CJ were only a few months apart and quite close.

                “And what project is that, CJ?” he asked.

                “Top secret!” she exclaimed.

                _Top Secret?_ That usually meant it would involve some furry creature finding its way into her bedroom in the near future. Permissions were given and Miles offered to see them out there safely. It was only an hour ride away, but he couldn’t help being protective. They were all he had left of their mother and he was determined to keep them safe, even if it killed him.

                Within an hour breakfast was cleaned up and he was on his way to the stables to check on those mares. As he crossed the yard he drew the attention of a very large pig that was stretched out in front of the dairy. This was a common sight on the farm. It seemed that the pig just hadn’t accepted that his mistress would not be coming to greet him.

                The animal made its way towards him, grunting as it snuffled at Bass’ pocket. “Alright,” he muttered as he pulled the apple out and handed it to him. The morning ritual that Charlie had once performed had become his task now. He watched the pig take one last forlorn look at the dairy before falling in step behind him.

                Brodie had made it to the ripe old age of twelve and the pig had taken it upon himself to become Bass’ new barnyard shadow when the dog had finally given into nature two years ago. The pig still had a few years left and Bass hadn’t had the heart to get rid of Charlie’s precious pet. He still remembered nursing the little runt back to health just to please her when they’d still be so unsure of each other in those early months on the farm.

                _Charlie comes into the kitchen just before dawn. She’s been nursing the twins and can’t seem to go back to sleep. Bass had come to bed very late, only grunting in response when she’d asked him what he’d been doing._

_Slightly annoyed with him, she almost trips over the makeshift pen when she comes into the room. Cursing at her throbbing toe, she lights a lamp to see what was in her way. There, sleeping inside the pen, wrapped up in a blanket was the tiny little piglet that she’d seen the afternoon before. It had made her sad to think that the poor creature wouldn’t make it._

_As she sets the water on the stove to boil and make coffee, she notices the feed bottle sitting out on the counter. It finally sinks in what he’d been doing all night. He’d been feeding the piglet. She shakes her head as she smiles. The gesture was so simple, but holds so much meaning. The gruff and crass Sebastian Monroe was up all night playing nursemaid to a piglet, and he’d done it for her._

_An hour later, Bass comes into the kitchen. He’s still exhausted, but he has to feed the damn runt before beginning his day. Bleary eyed, it doesn’t occur to him that she’s been up for a while and that she’s the one that has made coffee—Aaron and Priscilla are still sleeping._

_She comes up behind him as he’s stirring the makeshift pig formula sleepily. Charlie kisses him on the cheek, “Thank you,” she says as she sets a cup of coffee down on the counter in front of him, spiked just as he likes it._

_They lock eyes for a second and he smiles at her. That gentle kiss and the happiness on her face have made the lack of sleep totally worth it. A little embarrassed, he turns back to the task at hand. He knows he’s blushing and he’s positive she damn well knows it._

                The pig followed Bass throughout his morning chores. He had enough help to handle all of it, of course, but he loved these quite hours after breakfast. The hard work kept him in shape (as Charlie had always been happy to point out), and it helped him to block out the loneliness he felt when his mind drifted to his wife. Mucking out stalls and brushing down the horses was almost therapeutic and he found that the days he couldn’t take the time to do this seemed to be just a little bit harder than the rest.

                He was just finishing up when Angie came into the stable. Her choice of clothing suggested she was intent on riding to soothe her ruffled feathers. It was the one thing that made her happy when she was down. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said as she stood on her toes and reached for Phoenix’s saddle.

                Bass came up behind her and helped to pull it down. “It’s okay. I know it’s hard, not having your mom here. It’s hard on me too.”

                “I miss her so much,” she said, tearing up.

                He put an arm around her. “Me too.” With Priscilla and Katie around, it wasn’t like his daughters lacked for female role models, but it wasn’t the same as growing up with their mother there. Mornings like this only served to remind him how lost he was when it came to raising a teenaged daughter.

                Bass helped her saddle the horse out of habit than anything else. The girl was more than capable. “Listen, when Miles took Hope and CJ to the Carters’ Katie happened to mention that she was planning to head into town for a few hours tomorrow. I know it’s not the same as staying over with the other girls, but at least you’d be able to go for a little while,” he offered, hoping she’d take the olive branch.

                “Thank you, Daddy!” she said as she gave him a quick hug before she led her precious Phoenix out of the stable.

                He nodded as he watched her mount the horse and take off down the path that led to the cornfields. “Keep an eye out for Dickhead Jr. He broke out yesterday and we couldn’t find him,” he called after her.

                “I will!” she shouted back before disappearing around the bend.  

 

_December 4, 2044_

                He knelt under the apple tree that sat on the other side of the fence where the dairy abutted the pasture. The simple wooden cross marked her final resting place. It had been hell digging around all of those roots, but she’d loved sitting under this tree, so this is where he’d insisted on laying her to rest. Avery had told him that he’d probably kill the damn thing doing it, but he hadn’t cared. If the tree couldn’t be bothered to survive, then so be it.

                It seemed that nature had taken pity on him though and it still stood tall and strong, offering the fruit that she’d loved to pick (and feed her damned pig) every fall. The cold wind bit into his skin, but he sat out there still. He’d dried the last of the summer roses to save for this day, just as he had the previous two years and would continue to do for years to come.

                “Happy anniversary, Charlie.” He said as he placed the dried flowers on her grave and pulled the bottle out of his jacket. This was the one day he allowed himself every year. It was kind of expected and his family and employees alike all avoided this part of the farm to offer him privacy. The rest of the year when the grief hit him, he forced it away and trudged on with his day, but not the fourth day of December. Even in death, this was their day.

                He broke the seal on the bottle and took a drink. “Three years,” he murmured. “I thought it’d get easier, but it never does.”

                As the first tears fell, he took another drink, appreciating the warm burn it gave on the way down in contrast to the chill of winter. He got comfortable and got started; filling her in on everything she’d missed over the past year. This process would take hours as he covered each kid and the farm and everything else he could think of. “Let’s see… The twins just turned fifteen. Angie is so much like you it hurts sometimes. She’s got your temper that’s for sure. Billy Jacobs tried to sneak a kiss behind the school last week and she got in trouble for breaking his nose.

                “Danny is doing good. He still hasn’t noticed girls yet, so we know he doesn’t take after me,” he let out a chuckle. “He’s getting good grades, so we know he doesn’t take after Miles. He’s like a blond version of Ben, I guess.  

                “Hope is turning into quite the artist. She’s got sketches and paintings all over the house. She’s costing us a fortune in canvases, but you should see the way her face lights up when she gets a new one. When she runs out she paints on anything and everything she can get her hands on. She even painted the side of the outhouse.

                As he spoke, he leaned up against her tree, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Chance is always on the move. He disappeared for two days this summer. Danny said he wanted to see where the creek ended, so he followed it all the way to the damn river and then decided he wanted to see where that ended.

                “CJ is trying to adopt every stray and wild animal in Kentucky. I don’t know where she keeps finding the cages but there are six of them in her room. She’s got mice and lizards and god knows what else in there. Her sisters are terrified to go in her room.

                “Miles is, well he’s still Miles. He misses your mom still but he’s getting by okay. He hasn’t fallen into a barrel of late, so I that’s something. I guess we kind of keep each other in check and sane. He’s still a dick though.” Bass was starting to get really drunk and was numb with the cold but he wasn’t ready to leave yet.

                “I never thought I’d have to do this without you. It’s so fucking hard,” he said, his voice cracking and the tears falling freely once more. “I miss you so much and sometimes I’m not sure what I’m doing. You were always better at this than me; you had all the answers. I’m so afraid I’m going to screw them up somehow, you know?”

                His shoulders shaking and breath hitching, he could no longer speak. He sobbed openly and loudly, not caring who might overhear him in his grief. He did not notice the eerie green glow behind him. He wiped his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I’d give anything to have you back. Eleven years wasn’t long enough; we were supposed to be forever.”

                He sat in silence as he finished his bottle. Standing up, he swayed on his feet. He dropped to his knees again as the alcohol took him under. “I love you,” he mumbled as he passed out above her.

                The image appeared over him. “So lost and yet he’s still here holding on. This was not what we expected when we gave him that choice… So sad-- to keep his end of the bargain, all for nothing. Humans are so fragile…” The glow of insects that should not have been there ebbed and flowed above him like a swarming tide.

                “How hard would he fight if he was given another choice? Hmm… We are… _curious.”_ Angela Lynne Monroe’s eyes glowed a brilliant green as she watched him. The tears that he’d cried still stained his cheeks as he slept. If no one found him soon, he could very well freeze to death out here – It was unusually cold for December in Kentucky and he’d drank enough for it to be a concern.

                The air around them shimmered and the fireflies began to increase their speed as they revolved around him. The Nano just couldn’t help themselves. Their thirst for knowledge on this curious condition called humanity had led them to do all sorts of interesting things. What if he knew then what he knew now. Would he go back and try to give her the one thing that could have saved her life? The Nano so loved a good experiment….


	2. Chance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : I initially started this as a one shot, but then by the time I published it, I decided to expand upon it. Most of the purpose of it was to show the Monroe kids growing up. This has been put off for a while because I needed to hammer out just how he’d find a way to save Charlie. Another reason is because of formatting issues. This story has several different timelines going on all at the same time.  
> There’s the past (always in italics) that covers anything prior to the day that Charlie died. Then, there’s events that happen after the original start of the story (taking place in 2044 and beyond). These will always be dated in bold face and in plain text. These parts of the story assume that the Nano have no effect on the future whatsoever—Charlie is still lost and yet after waking up on the ground the morning after their anniversary, something has changed in Bass—this will be explained later (I hope?)  
> The third “timeline” is not a flash back or flash forward, but a flash sideways… The nano have intervened and Bass has his chance to set things right. These will not be dated at the beginning, but will always follow a flashback into the past and the dates will find their way into the story somehow so you know when they take place.  
> I hope that this is not too confusing to read and will make sense as you go. I will try to keep them in the same order for each chapter—Flashforward, Flashback and Flashsideways. Thank you to anyone that has expressed interest in this and I promise that there will be a happy ending despite a lot of emotional scenes.   
> I didn’t want this one to be M, and I’m hoping that the smut (yep, there is some) in this chapter doesn’t toe the line too much. I tried to keep the descriptions to a minimum and therefore if anyone does not like smuttiness, I’m hoping I did not offend. The scene is meant to be an intimate and emotional one, not a sleazy one. *crosses fingers and pray no one flags it*  
> Also, each Chapter’s stories will sort of focus on a different Monroe kid. I’m hoping to wrap this up after each one has a bit of their story told. The first chapter really had more to do with Angie. I’m feeling too lazy to come up with witty chapter titles, fyi.

**December 5, 2044…**

                Bass picked himself up off the ground slowly, waking up to a morning frost. It didn’t happen often in Kentucky, but when it did, it made life miserable. Shivering, he made his way towards the house. Priscilla was already in the kitchen. She almost dropped the pot she was just setting on the stove. Knowing what the day before was, she’d already arranged to have Katie come in to cook for the field hands. Bass would be in no condition or mood to fix breakfast this morning.

                “My God! Have you been out there all night?” She asked, worried. She set her burden down and immediately went to grab a blanket. When she came back, she ushered him into a chair and draped it over his shoulders, before rushing over to the stove to grab him a cup of the coffee she’d just finished brewing.

                “Drink that down. You’re teeth are chattering so loud, I swear you’ll break them,” she commanded.

                “Yes, _Mom_ ,” he managed to get out.

                He let her fuss over him for a few minutes while he warmed up. The woman was the textbook definition of worrier and she seemed to get off on taking care of people. “Aaron’s going into town later. I’ll have him tell the doc to drop by later to check on you,” she murmured as she went back to the task of getting breakfast on the table.

                “Don’t bother. I’m fine,” Bass insisted.

                Priscilla shot him a dirty look. “You’re getting too old for this crap.”

                “Don’t I know it? I’m just a bit cold and stiff from passing out on the ground. I’m _fine_.” Bass took another drink of his coffee. All in all, he didn’t feel half bad, all things considered. He wasn’t hung over at any rate. “Anyway, it’s not gonna happen again. I—I know it’s gotta stop. I need…”

                Bass hesitated for a second. _What do you need?_ “I made Charlie a promise. I need to make good on it.”

                Priscilla nodded in understanding. Her lips pressed in a firm line, she wisely kept her mouth shut—and secretly vowed to have Miles and Aaron keep a watch out for signs of pneumonia over the next several days.

                _November 27, 2041_

_Bass is just drifting off. He’s dragged an old cot into their bedroom. Charlie’s hooked up to an IV kit that Doc Lundy had brought and because of it, she’s more comfortable when he doesn’t sleep in the bed with her._

_He hears her whisper his name and is immediately awake again. “You okay?” he asks as he sits down on the corner of the bed._

_She reaches for his hand. Hers is so frail now. He knows she’s not going to last much longer. The cancer has ravaged her body and she’s barely holding on to life now. Bass entwines his fingers in hers, careful not to put too much pressure on them. Her joints pain her now._

_“I need…” she stops to catch her breath. It happens any time she talks now. “I need you to promise me something.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“You need to promise me that you’ll be okay.” Her eyes are shining and she looks like she’s getting upset._

_Bass swallows back the lump that forms in his throat. “Charlie—”_

_“Promise me, Bass. You need to be there for them. You can’t fall apart.”_

_He brings his hand up and places a kiss on her palm. He nods and doesn’t bother to fight his tears. “I promise, baby. I’ll be there and I’ll take care of them.”_

_Satisfied, she smiles up at him. “Lie down with me?”_

_“Alright,” he says. He looks up and notices that the IV bottle is empty. It’s the last one. Lundy will be there in the morning and is bringing stuff to refill them, so Bass pulls the needle out of her arm. She always complains that it’s hard for her to sleep with it, and it’s not doing anything to help her really—just keeps her from getting too dehydrated and makes it easier for them to give her something when the pain gets too bad._

_“Do you need anything?” he asks before joining her._

_Charlie shakes her head. “Just you.”_

_He takes his dying wife in his arms and holds her close and secure. He does not know that she will leave him in just three days, but he wants every moment he can have with her all the same._

**November 9, 2046**

Bass sat up in the living room alone. From his hands dangled a second glass of whiskey—a rare occurrence over the past two years. Ever since his wedding anniversary two years prior, he’d kept it to one right before bed as if it was an unspoken rule—one that was very hard not to break, considering he lived with Aaron and Miles.

                The grandfather clock had just chimed eleven times and his youngest son was still not home yet. Chance would forever be a challenge to him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. This would not be the first time that he’d not been home by curfew—dusk regardless of the time of year. This was the first time since his little river adventure that it had been _this_ late, however.

                Miles drifted into the room. “Still not back yet?”

                “Nope.” He downed the amber liquid in his glass and got to his feet. “Fuck it. I’m going to go look for him.”

                Miles just nodded and went into his room to grab his things. If Bass was going, he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit around waiting. It’d be just like old times. He did have the presence of mind, however to poke his head into the boys’ room. As he’d suspected, Danny was still up, and looked worried as hell. “We’re going after Chance. Wait until you’re in the clear and ride over to the Carter’s. Go get your brother, just in case.”

                Shortly thereafter, both men were mounted with the best trail horses that their stables had to offer. They weren’t as fast as some of the others, but they were the best for wandering through the countryside. Their first destination was in the woods that separated their farm with the Carters’ place. Over the years, Danny and Chance had built a fort of sorts in a small clearing. It was a joint effort that took several summers and a lot of scrap pieces, stolen from the worksites as the farm had been expanded.

                Both boys often went there together to escape farm life—although Bass was sure that eventually his middle son would lose interest in such childish things as he came closer to graduating. The darkness kept their pace slow; it took them almost two hours to find the place.

                Hearing a noise inside and seeing the glow of a lantern, Bass drew his gun and slowly crept to the door. It was probably his missing offspring, but he hadn’t lived this long by not erring on the side of caution. Opening it, he found Connor.

                Immediately, he turned to Miles and shot him an annoyed glare. “I told you, we didn’t need backup,” he snapped.

                “Don’t get your boxers in a bunch, Dad,” Connor said with an exasperated sigh. For some reason, his father had problems remembering that he wasn’t getting any younger. He might consider himself invincible, but the fact remained that he was sixty-four years old. In shape or not, he wasn’t in his prime, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise. “He’s my _brother_. If he’s missing, I’m helping you find him.”

                “He’s probably fine, but we can always use a second pair of eyes—and hands if it comes down to it,” Miles told him. He didn’t say what they all knew: bandits had been seen in the area of late. They had to be camped in the immediate vicinity and the woods were as good of a hiding place as any other.

                Bass was outvoted and he knew it. “Fine,” he eventually said, letting it come out as a low growl. “Did you find anything here?”

                “Just a bottle that they swiped from the stillhouse and couple of tore up old Penthouses. Lantern was cold, but he’d apparently been here at some point today- fresh apple core outside.”

                “Remind me to put a lock on the stillhouse door,” Bass said thoughtfully. “Well that gives us a something, I guess. Let’s start tracking, boys.”

                After double checking to make sure the horses were secure, they went on foot with the lantern in hand and started looking for signs of where he could have gone.

                They scoured the woods. Eventually, Connor found signs of his brother—his hunting knife abandoned in the undergrowth just off the path. “Look at this,” he said as he dangled it by the handle. The tip was stained red and still tacky to the touch.

                _What the hell has he gotten himself into now_?“Dammit. Let’s keep going. Turn that lantern down. If he’s run into trouble, I’d like to find that trouble before it finds us.”

                With the lantern now doused to almost nothing, the going wasn’t easy, but after a few more hours, they were getting closer to the river. They could hear it in the distance. They could also smell something—a campfire. Knowing that they’d stumbled upon something, without having to even speak it, all three men headed in that direction.

                Before they got too close, Connor extinguished the lantern and they went on in total darkness, leaving it abandoned for their return trip home. They found a small camp just off the bank of the river, near the bend. It wasn’t far from where they’d found the Carter girl years ago. Memories of that long ago night drifted through Bass’ mind. That time, he’d had Avery and a handful of decent shots with him—and he’d been so much younger.  

                “I say we should just kill him instead. Little bastard is more trouble than any ransom,” a voice said through the trees.

                “Can it, you pussy. It’s just a little prick. He barely got you,” another voice replied. “Quit your crying and get that letter writ. Can’t get paid if we don’t let them know we’ve got the kid. I hear they’re the richest folk in the valley. They’ll pay to get him back. Not like they can’t afford it.”

                “Yeah, but now he’s seen us—all of us. This whole thing is stupid. He’s gonna get us caught.”

                “No one’s gonna find out. He’s just a dumb kid and these are just hick farmers.”

                “Oh, you are _so_ wrong,” Bass said as he stepped out of the trees. As he approached, he saw where his son was tied up and gagged—and if he had a guess, it was because of Chance’s inability to keep his mouth shut. “You’ve got something of mine, and if you knew what was good for you, you’d just give him back.”

                He stood their confidently, his weapon not drawn. He knew that he was covered and decided to see where tact would get him. He could still draw a gun or sword just as fast as ever, even if his ability to use them had waned a little with the years, arthritis and disuse.

                Five more bandits appeared from the shadows. Miles and Connor had been waiting until now, but with their numbers a bit larger than they’d thought, they now had to make their moves. Weapons drawn, they emerged to back Bass up.

                “ _This_ is all you’ve got?” the leader of the band scoffed. “You’re way out of your league here, old man.”

                “You _really_ shouldn’t have said that,” Miles offered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his empty hand. “He’s a little sensitive about that.”

                “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish, Forrester,” he sneered.

                “Forrester?” Bass was confused for a split second. _Forrester Farms…_ Of course. They bandits had been in the area long enough to cause trouble and to figure out that theirs was the largest place in the area—they hadn’t been around long enough to figure out that Bass and Charlie had decided long ago not to change the name of their farm in homage to the man that had left it to them. “Oh, you have _no_ idea. I’m Sebastian Monroe— _that_ Sebastian Monroe, and that’s my son. I have a real problem with people that fuck with my family.”

                “So pay the ransom and we’ll let you have him and be on our way,” the bandit said, his demeanor telling them that he was starting to get nervous, despite his bravado “I don’t care who you are—you’re an old man and you’ve got what? Another geezer and some middle-aged farmhand as backup?”

                 Having had enough, Bass drew his gun and took a shot, striking the man down. “Here’s a payment for you.”

                “You really shouldn’t have done that,” one of the bandits said as he advanced. “The boss ain’t gonna like it that you killed his cousin and all.”

                “Aw, shit,” Miles groaned as the fight began.

                They just managed to get cover before several more men came crashing into the camp, guns blazing. Outnumbered now nine to three, the only thing that saved them was the fact that only a few of them had firearms at all and they seemed to be working with a limited supply of ammo. They traded shots back and forth, only taking two of them down before the bandits had run out.

                Still confident that the older men were severely outmatched, the bandits were not willing to give up so easily. Swords clashed as they met the three of them with grim determination. Bass circled one opponent, trying to keep him within his field of vision. A sound in his blind spot had him shooting without bothering to look. He knew where Connor and Miles were, which meant whomever was standing there wasn’t a friend. It’s was all he needed to know.

                He slashed at the other with his sword, fighting him off. The thief was a lot younger and wasn’t unskilled, but Bass was simply better. There was always something to be said for experience. He slashed one last time, sending him to his maker.

                A glance at his son, seeing Chance’s eyes grow wide had him spinning around just in time to block a blow with what could very well have been an old baseball bat with his forearm. It hurt like hell and his gun went flying into the leaves below. Shaking his head at the man dumb enough to try and take him from behind, Bass sent his sword right through his gut.

                He looked around and found Miles and Connor still alive and kicking. The rest of their opponents, however, were not. Connor had taken a knife to an arm and Miles was bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

                Bass walked over to the tree that they’d bound Chance to. He slid down the side of it. He leaned up against the trunk, eyes closed and panting. “You are _so_ grounded,” he said in between breaths. “I outta whip your ass into the next county. I still might—just as soon as I rest a minute.”

                Connor approached them then, his hand over the cut on his arm. “And you said you didn’t need my help.”

                “Shut it—or you’re grounded too.”

                Connor just laughed as he did the honors, cutting the ropes that bound his little brother. “You can’t ground me. I’m forty-two—and I don’t even live with you.”

                “I can do anything I want—I’m your father.”

                Now freed and his gag removed, Chance accepted the canteen his brother offered him, taking a long drink. He knew he was in for it, and so started to lay on the charm he’d inherited from his father. “Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“

                “What the hell were you doing, Chance? And don’t tell me they just happened to come across you. I _know_ better.” Desiring nothing more than to remain exactly where he was for the rest of the night, Bass still accepted Miles’ offered hand and got to his feet. Getting (being) old sucked. “You were trying to track them, weren’t you?”

                “It didn’t start out that way. I was coming back from hunting, I swear. And then I heard them in the woods and decided to get a good look. I figured if I could find out where they were camped, I could go back home and you could get the sheriff.”

                Bass grabbed his son by the shoulders. “You could have been killed! Don’t you get that? I already lost your mom. I can’t bear to lose one of you too.” He pulled him into a hug. The adrenaline still kicking, thoughts of that fear becoming a reality took over. “You scared the shit out of me, kid.”

                They made their way home, getting there just before dawn. “Do me a favor; tell Aaron to get started without me. I’m gonna go sleep for a month,” Bass told Miles as they opened the back door. He waited for Chance to get inside before following. “And if I find you gone when I wake up, I’m tanning your hide.”

                “Yes sir,” Chance said with a yawn. In all likelihood, he’d still be asleep himself.

                “Oh, and later, you and me are gonna have a nice long chat about _borrowing_ my bourbon.”

                “But Dad, Danny—“

                “Don’t even try it. I know better. _You_ are the next in line to inherit that habit and the whole damn family knows it. Your brother hates the stuff.”

**Two days later…**

“Come on Dad, I’m _bored_ ,” Chance whined at the breakfast table.

                He was under house arrest which meant he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. He’d been pestering his father nonstop since the day before for a reprieve, seeing as how it was the first time in a long time that he’d pulled such a stunt.

                “No.”

                “But—“

                “I said, no.” He took a drink of his coffee, not even bothering to look up from his paper.

                “What if—“

                Bass slammed the cup down, just barely managing to not spill its contents. “For fuck’s sake, kid. What part of ‘no’ do you not quite understand?” he snapped. He looked to Miles when he heard a quiet snicker. “Aw hell, when did I turn into my father?” he now whined.

                “You’re the one that said it. I’m just along for the ride,” Miles grinned, clearly enjoying the panic that was etched on his friend’s features. “And it’s a hilarious one, if I do say so myself.”

                “I hate you,” Bass told him before turning to his children, who all sat at the table biting their lips and trying to hide their amusement. “Oh get out of here, all of you. Stay out of the woods or I swear I’ll lock you all in your rooms until your Miles’ age.” Until the sheriff came back to report they were completely clear, the woods were officially off limits.

                “Yes sir,” they practically said in unison before scampering off.

  _July 11, 2033_

_Bass is driving the wagon back from town. He hates being so far from home with Charlie this close, but she’d insisted on going with him. Once she has the baby, it’ll be weeks before she can leave the house and she’s determined to get as many trips in as she can before that happens._

_“Shit,” she says out of nowhere._

_Bass turns to look at her. “What’s wrong?”_

_“Water broke,” she says with an apologetic smile._

_Bass knows that smile. It’s the smile that tells him she’s pulled one over on him. “How long?” he asks. When she doesn’t respond, he narrows his eyes at her. “How long have you been having contractions, Charlie?”_

_“Since this morning,” she says. She starts to pant her way through this one._

_“What?!”_

_“Oh calm down. They were just little ones.”_

_Bass rolls his eyes at her and then starts to look for a good place to turn the wagon around. “Apparently not.”_

_“I’ve done this before, you know. And I haven’t had a baby yet that showed up in less than two days.” Her eyes widen when she sees what he’s about to do. “Oh no you don’t. We’ve got plenty of time.”_

_“We’re going back to town. We’re closer to there than we are to home.”_

_Charlie is adamant. “No way. I’m having this baby in our house this time.”_

_She argues with him for several more minutes. Figuring she knows her body better than he, Bass gives in, despite his better judgment. It’s only two hours. Surely the baby won’t come that fast. Hell, the twins took days after her water broke and Hope was a good fourteen or fifteen hours after that event._

_With an exaggerated sigh, he gets the horses moving again in the direction of home. They’re almost to the cutoff that leads to the Carter Farm when she tells him to stop the wagon. “I’m not gonna make it,” she suddenly says. She’s been trying to be quiet, but he can tell that she’s in a lot of pain right now._

_“Wait a second. You said—” Bass feels himself start to panic._

_She slaps him—hard. “I know what I said, and now I’m saying something different. I’ve gotta do this now,” she says and then moans as another contraction hits her. They’re coming back to back now._

_“We can make it to Avery’s. It’s only ten minutes down the road.”_

_Charlie shakes her head. “Uh-uh. This kids coming now.”_

_“Oh no! You can’t do this to me, Charlie. We’re in the middle of the fucking road,” Bass protests, as if by sheer stubbornness, she can somehow redirect nature._

_“And I’m having the baby in the middle of the fucking road, you moron. Are you gonna help me, or do I have to do this myself? I swear you’re such a dumbass sometimes.”_

_Bass knows it’s the pain talking, so he keeps his mouth shut. He jumps down and helps her to get down off the bench. The second her feet hit the ground, he lifts her in his arms and carries her to the back. He gets her settled as quickly and gently as he can in the back._

_Shoving things aside to give him room, he clambers up to join her. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” he asks, now completely terrified._

_“Well, if I were you, I’d get ready to catch,” she growls._

_Bass does just that. He rummages around in the back of the wagon and finds some blankets that they keep there, just in case someone gets stranded. His flask is dumped over his hands to clean them as best he can and he has a jug of drinking water that he’d filled from the spring earlier that morning ready. It’s warm because of the heat of July, but it’s clean at least._

_There’s no time for him to do anything else, especially while he’s having insults and screams thrown at him the entire time. Charlie can’t hold off and she begins to push. It doesn’t take long and suddenly a newborn son is in his hands, slippery and apparently mad at the world. He’s screaming the second he senses his little world has irrevocably changed._

_Bass holds his squirming and naked form and just looks down at him. He’s beautiful—ten fingers, ten toes and all. He looks up at Charlie who is propped up on her elbows, looking tired and elated. “Well?” she asks weakly._

_“It’s a boy—a perfect boy,” Bass says through tear-filled laughter. He can’t believe what’s just happened. Later, he’ll hyperventilate and freak out, but right now he’s still running high on adrenaline. He’s done this part before—he cleans the baby up as best he can and then wraps him in one of the blankets._

_He hands him to Charlie—he’s still connected to her and it’s gonna have to be that way until they can get to Avery’s. She holds him while Bass helps her with the rest of the messy business that comes with labor. He can’t do anything to make her more comfortable, so checks on her one last time and the climbs up to the bench and gets the horses moving._

_Avery and his wife come rushing out when they arrive. They look worried when they see Bass—he looks like he just got out of a slaughter house. “We had a little trouble on the road,” he explains. “Someone decided he couldn’t wait an hour to have a birthday,” he tells them._

_Avery sends one of his hands to their place to go fetch Gene while Jenny Carter helps Bass get Charlie inside. The guest house is empty, but she’s cleaned it just a few days prior. It’ll give them the privacy they need for a day or two._

_They get her washed and the cord cut and tied off. The baby gets a proper bath too. Charlie is in bed and nursing her son—and then he loses it. Suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic, he bursts out the door to the cottage. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”_

_He can’t breathe and the world caves in around him as a panic attack of epic proportions takes him over. Thoughts of all the things that could have gone wrong swirl around in his brain. He bends over, hands on his knees and waits for it to subside._

_Jenny offers him some water but he just shoos her away. It’s bad enough that he’s losing his shit. Doing it in front of anyone, well that’s even worse._

_“Jenny, tell my husband to sit down before he passes out,” Charlie’s voice drifts through the open window._

_His neighbor at least has the courtesy of not laughing when his ass hits the ground, almost as if on cue. With a shake of her head, she goes inside the main house, coming out a few minutes later with a good, stiff drink for him. She leaves him to it while she goes inside to see if Charlie needs anything._

_Bass tosses it back. It really is a cure for everything. Within a few minutes he’s calmed down and the world shifts back into focus. He sits there in absolute wonder of what has happened this afternoon. He eventually finds his way back inside the cottage._

_Charlie is propped up in the bed. The baby is asleep now. He’s been changed, swaddled and fed and is completely content. Bass stretches out beside her. She sets the baby down on the mattress between them and they gaze down at this creature they’d made together, a tradition they’ve shared with each of their children—except that this time, he was too busy freaking out to witness their son’s first feeding._

_“Feeling better?” she says with a quiet giggle._

_“I think you just scared ten years off the end of my life, woman,” he admonishes, even as he’s smiling down at the baby. “Was going to town really that important?”_

_“How was I supposed to know he’d come so quick?”_

_Bass shakes his head at her. “I swear, I’ll never understand how your mind works. If we do this again, promise me you won’t take another chance like this?”_

_Charlie bites her lip to hold back a wicked grin. “Hmm. I kind of like that. Chance…” She tests the name aloud._

_Bass shrugs. “Why not?”_

_They settle down together to wait for Gene to come. It’ll be a day or two before Bass is going to risk the hour ride home. For the time being, they’re content to relax here together, just the three of them. There’ll be time enough for Chance to be introduced to the chaos that is their family._

 

                Bass woke up to the sound of a baby crying. Still fuzzy from sleep, he sat up abruptly. Even after all these years, it was like his body was still tuned to that sound. It echoed in his ears still. He realized then that he was in bed, not outside under the apple tree. He was also surprisingly sober.

                He flopped back down onto his pillow and rubbed his hands over his face. “Just a dream,” he murmured. He stared up at the dark ceiling for a few moments. It was then that he noticed that the view of the plaster above wasn’t quite the same.

                He’d been sleeping in the middle of the bed for the past several months. He’d finally decided that keeping to “his side” only made the bed feel emptier. Feeling shaken for no apparent reason, he reached over and lit the lamp on the bedside table.

                He sat up in bed once more. The room was different somehow, although he couldn’t at first put his finger on how. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the light while his tired mind tried to figure it out. It just sort of hit him then—the smell. It _smelled_ different. It was barely detectable, but there all the same. The faint smell of a woman who hadn’t entered this room in three miserable years.

                It had been one of those little things that had made being in this room and sleeping in it alone so hard for him—that sense of her. If anyone had asked him to describe it, he wouldn’t have had the words for it. It was a combination of her soap, the fragrance she always wore and just—Charlie.

                Over time, it had faded away, just as Charlie had. It had been devastating and yet at the same time, almost a blessing. And now, it was back. He shook his head, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. As he turned, he saw it—a second pillow, right there next to his own. The indent of a head was still pressed into it. _I wouldn’t have… especially not here…_ Despite any needs he had, Bass had been true to his vows, even after he was no longer bound to them. It still felt like cheating to him.

                Bass shot off the bed like it was on fire and backed away as his mind raced. He ended up flat on his ass. Something warm and furry had been in his way-- something that had been in a spot on the floor long unoccupied.

                The whine that came from the impossible obstacle told him he was really there, even if he shouldn’t be. “No…”

                The lick on the back of his hand confirmed it, none the less. “I’m still asleep. I have to be—it’s just another dream.”

                Dazed, he continued to look around him from his vantage point on the floor. The closet door was open as if someone had just gotten something out of it. Clothes hung there that shouldn’t be there. He remembered sobbing as he’d backed them away to be put into the attic—fully knowing they should be given to those that could use them, but unable to part with them. Somehow, he just knew that if he looked on the back of the top shelf, a crossbow would be waiting, just in case it was ever needed again.   

                Of course, that was impossible, because he’d packed that crossbow away with those clothes. He looked across the room. On the dresser there was a hairbrush—her hairbrush. Other odds and ends were scattered here and there, announcing who the room’s other occupant must be. Some of these things, he’d set aside for his daughters. Others, he’d destroyed in a fit of madness and blind grief.

                They were all there regardless. He crawled over to the dresser to get a better look. That hand mirror had been shattered when he’d thrown it across the room, furious that it should be there when its owner was not.

                The door opened and Bass looked up to see Charlie standing there. She was looming over him, her hands full with a sniveling Chance.  “What the hell are you doing? You’re gonna wake up Hope and the twins.”

                “I—” He knew without looking then that she held Chance in her arms. “I tripped over the damn dog.”

                Charlie just raised her eyes heavenward while he got off the floor. When he was on his feet, she thrust the child in her arms at him. “He had a bad dream and wants you to tuck him back in,” she said with a yawn.

                Still feeling lost, Bass took his son from her and headed into the nursery. It looked like it had all those years ago, freshly painted blue and everything. He knew this couldn’t be real, but it didn’t feel like any dream he’d ever had before. _I’ve finally done it—I’ve completely lost my mind._             

                He looked down at Chance. He couldn’t have been close to two yet. He remembered distinctly, even after all these years how his son had looked at that age. Not knowing what else to do, he put his sleepy child to bed and then went back into his—no, their bedroom.

                The lamp was still lit and Charlie was just climbing back into bed. The closet door was closed once more, telling him that she’d put her robe away. As he crossed the room, he glanced in to the dresser mirror. He about lost what was left of his already frayed composure when he saw his face. He just stared at it for several minutes.

                “Stop checking for gray hairs. You didn’t have any yesterday, and you don’t have them now. Come back to bed,” Charlie told him, her attempt to suppress her amusement having failed.

                “I…”

                “Are you okay?”

                “Um—yeah. I just… I had a weird dream, that’s all,” Bass told her as he slid under the covers. He reached over to douse the lamp before lying down next to his wife, still confused. How could a dream feel this much like anything but?

                Charlie automatically scooted close, just as she’d done countless times before. Bass felt his eyes well up. The feel of her body against his—something he’d missed so much, it killed him now.

                “You sure you’re alright?” she asked as she rolled over to look at him, sounding concerned. When she saw him in the moonlight streaming in the window, her brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing. Everything’s just perfect,” he told her. As far as he was concerned, this was the best dream he could ever have. He leaned forward and kissed her as if to prove it. His hands moved of their own volition and he framed her face with them, his thumbs gently running along her cheekbones tenderly.

                He suddenly became desperate to take every moment of this strange echo in time as he could. If he didn’t, he was terrified that she’d disappear on him. He’d wake up and she’d be gone and once more he’d be all alone. When that happened, he’d regret not holding on to whatever he could.

                He sought her tongue desperately, sweeping his inside her mouth. If Charlie was still worried, she chose to let it go, responding eagerly now. For Bass, it was like coming home after being gone for a lifetime. He found himself experiencing something so familiar and yet at the same time so lost to him. It made his heart ache and he knew that indulging in this fantasy was a bad idea, but he couldn’t possibly turn away from it.

                He slid his hands down and began to inch her nightgown up. Dream or not, all he wanted was to touch her one last time. He needed this now, the desire to memorize and relearn every inch of her skin became overwhelming. In the morning, this beautiful delusion would be gone—shattered. Until then, he made a conscious decision to let this madness overtake him.

                Charlie sat up and pulled her nightgown over her head. The moment she let it fall from her fingers, Bass pulled her atop of him. As they kissed, he ran his hands up and down the smooth, silken skin of her back before sending them on their way to roam every curve.

                The weight of her breasts, just as he remembered them, were almost as comforting as they were arousing. Charlie’s soft moans in her throat were like music to his ears. He’d missed the sound of them every bit as much as the feel of her.

                She ground down on him, his boxers the only barrier between their bodies. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted her so badly. There’d been precious few times after she’d gotten sick and, with her ailing body and his having gotten older, it hadn’t been the same. Before then, well things had been different after so many years. Another consequence aging—their sex life had changed. This was like it was so long ago.

                Bass flipped them over. He took a moment to free himself of his boxers before settling between her thighs. Charlie accepted him readily and they were finally joined. As they moved together, it all came rushing back. Every pant and sigh brought him back to a past he’d spent so much time longing for and no matter how much he wished that it could last forever he soon found himself completely lost to it.

                He buried his face in her neck, pressing his lips to her skin and murmuring words of encouragement as she bucked and writhed beneath him. Charlie’s arms and legs tightened around him and she moaned his name as she came apart and he followed soon after. He crashed his mouth to hers the moment he exploded.

                Sometime later, he withdrew and rolled off to the side, taking her with him and tucking her close to him. He found it strange to feel so sated and tired in a dream and yet he struggled to keep his eyes open. A part of him knew that if he fell asleep, he’d wake up back in the real world so he tried so hard to do anything but that.

                “I love you so much,” he whispered to her as he pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

                Charlie sighed happily and snuggled just a little closer. “Love you too,” she said, clearly half a sleep.

                The words brought tears to his eyes, and he was thankful she couldn’t see. If she did, she’d ask him why and then he’d have to remind her that she’d left and the dream would end. So instead, he held onto her and tried to keep it alive just a little longer. The last thought he had before drifting off was that he’d give anything to just stay here—he didn’t give a damn anymore. He couldn’t keep going on without her.

                When Bass woke up, he could practically feel the sunlight streaming into the window. He refused to open his eyes. Doing so would bring back the harsh reality of life as a widower and after such a vivid dream, he didn’t think he could take it. He was still contemplating this fact and trying to convince himself that he really didn’t have to get up and piss when he heard something… The sound of a dog barking.

                _We don’t have a dog anymore_. And yet, there was something about owning a dog for over a decade. You got to know its bark every bit as much as you got to know you’re child’s cry. And that barking was too familiar.

                Bass finally opened his eyes and looked around. He knew he should be hung over and sore and yet other than the overwhelming need to relieve himself, he felt good. Better than good, actually. He got up and took a quick survey of the room. The first thing his eyes landed on were the boxers that he’d thrown off the night before—they were still there on the floor next to the bed. He just stared at them for a second.

                He’d heard of lucid dreaming, but this was something else. He went over to the dresser and started rummaging for clothes. He looked up and saw his reflection staring back at him. It was not the face that he knew he should have. His hair had finished going gray in the past few years and yet just like the night before, it was the same light brown he’d had his whole life before then.

                The wrinkles that went along with that gray were gone—limited to just the crow’s feet around his eyes. “I—I really did go crazy,” he said with a laugh. “I’m cracked.”

                Cracked or not, he still had to use the outhouse and so he yanked on a pair of jeans, found a shirt and wandered down the hall, sure that someone would be coming to wrestle him into a straitjacket at any moment.

                He wandered into the kitchen and saw Charlie sitting there, just finishing up with breakfast. “Well look who finally decided to join us,” she said with a smirk.

                “I, uh… Good morning,” he stammered as he practically ran out the back door. The second he hit the porch, Brodie came bounding up with a happy yap. Bass absently patted him before continuing on to his destination.

                On his way back to the house, the familiar sounds of the farm were all around him. He stopped in the middle of the yard and looked around. The second addition to the stable was gone. The same was with the dairy. _What the hell is happening?_

                Bass went back inside, deciding that he needed coffee more than anything right now. With shaking hands, he poured himself a cup before sitting down in his usual chair. To his credit, when Rachel and Gene came in the back door, he didn’t have a heart attack or fall out of his chair—just barely.

                He watched them as they passed—quietly discussing something or another. He wasn’t able to focus. “Bass?”

                He turned to see Charlie staring at him curiously. “Hmm?”

                “Are you okay? You seemed upset last night and now you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She sounded genuinely concerned.

                Technically, he’d just seen three—four if he counted the dog. And yet, a smile broke out on his face. “I’m fine. _Really_. I just woke up feeling a bit off. It’s nothing.”

                Charlie seemed to accept his answer and got up to fix him a plate from what was left from the rest of the household’s dinner. “Maybe you should have grandpa take a look at you, just in case. You never sleep this late—or forget to spike your coffee,” she said. She set the plate down in front of him and went to the pantry to get the whiskey to take care of that discrepancy for him.

                Bass hadn’t even thought of it. He’d been skipping it ever since he’d sobered up a good three months or so after the funeral. He’d found that if he’d started, it was a struggle to stop. “Guess I’m still tired,” he murmured.

                He took a drink of it, savoring the flavor of it. It was yet a small pleasure in life that he’d been denied. He sat happily and ate his now cold breakfast while he watched Charlie wipe sticky fingers and faces. He glanced over at the paper sitting on the table, waiting for him as it had every morning. It had been obviously opened and then haphazardly refolded—a result of being the last person up.

                The date on it struck him. _January 5, 2035. Ten years?_ It was impossible—he knew it and yet there was no way he was still asleep. Dreams didn’t last this long and they weren’t this vivid. No, he was awake and he was here. The previous night had been _real_ , despite all odds against it.

                “It’s Sunday. What do you want to do today?” Charlie asked, breaking him from his reverie. They’d kept with the tradition that Daniel had started. After morning chores, the day was set aside for family.

                “You know what? Let’s do absolutely nothing,” he replied. “I wanna camp out in the living room with you and the kids and just enjoy it.”

                Charlie’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. It was also tradition for him to try to work on Sundays anyway and for her to have to nag him into taking a break. “Really? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

                “What? Can’t I just enjoy my family?”

                Charlie finished cleaning up the older three and set them loose on the house. She stood up and pulled Chance from his highchair. She thrust him at Bass. “Tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on those three, you give this one his bath.”

                Bass happily accepted his son, settling him in his lap as he finished eating. Charlie disappeared and he could hear her in the living room, supervising the destruction of the living room. By the sounds of it, the twins had taken all of the cushions off of the couch and loveseat and were building a fort from them.

                He didn’t know how he could be here, but Bass knew that no matter the how or why of it, what he had to do. He had to figure out a way to save her. If only they’d known in time or if she’d had access to real treatments, she’d have lived.

                This was his chance to find a way. For the first time since awakening in his own past, something occurred to Bass. It had to be the Nano. It was the only way. The fact that they had the power to do something like this terrified him to be sure, but if they did, it meant there was a chance. They must have somehow decided to give it to him.

                He had seven years before the day his world ended. Surely he could think of something by then? A way to find it in time? A way to contact the Nano and bargain for her life? A way to turn the power on soon enough for the hospitals to be up and running again? There had to be something and he was determined that no matter the cost, he would find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Dates For This Story (ages are listed for the children at time of the beginning of the first chapter, which takes place in 2044):   
> Sebastian William Monroe – 08/06/1982  
> Miles Matheson – 10/03/1981  
> Charlotte Matheson – 04/19/2007 – 11/30/2041, Buried 12/02/2041   
> Rachel Matheson – 1984 - September 2038  
> Gene Porter – 1957 – February 2039  
> Daniel “Danny” Ross Monroe – 11/21/2029 (14 years)  
> Angela “Angie” Grace Monroe – 11/21/2029 (14 years)  
> Hope Monroe – 05/20/2032 (12 years)  
> Chance Monroe – 06/11/2033 (11 years)  
> Charlotte Junior “CJ” Monroe 03/16/2037 (7 years)  
> End of the Patriot War – June 2031  
> Monroe’s Trial – 05/09/2032  
> Charlie and Bass’ wedding -- 12/04/2030  
> The events of Lose Yourself In The Fog took place from March 2029 (circa Austin City Limits) till November 21, 2029 (the birth of the twins, 4 weeks early)  
> The Events of Rebuild Yourself Slowly took place from November 21, 2029 through Bass’ execution date on 06/09/2032. The final bit of the epilogue occurred in the summer of 2036, four years after the so-called execution, ending with the announcement of Charlie’s pregnancy with CJ.

**Author's Note:**

> Important Dates For This Story:   
> Sebastian William Monroe – 08/06/1982  
> Miles Matheson – 10/03/1981  
> Charlotte Matheson – 04/19/2007 – 11/30/2041, Buried 12/02/2041   
> Rachel Matheson – 1984 - September 2038  
> Gene Porter – 1957 – February 2039  
> Daniel “Danny” Ross Monroe – 11/21/2029 (14 years)  
> Angela “Angie” Grace Monroe – 11/21/2029 (14 years)  
> Hope Monroe – 05/20/2032 (12 years)  
> Chance Monroe – 06/11/2033 (11 years)  
> Charlotte Junior “CJ” Monroe 03/16/2037 (7 years)  
> End of the Patriot War – June 2031  
> Monroe’s Trial – 05/09/2032  
> Charlie and Bass’ wedding -- 12/04/2030  
> The events of Lose Yourself In The Fog took place from March 2029 (circa Austin City Limits) till November 21, 2029 (the birth of the twins, 4 weeks early)  
> The Events of Rebuild Yourself Slowly took place from November 21, 2029 through Bass’ execution date on 06/09/2032. The final bit of the epilogue occurred in the summer of 2036, four years after the so-called execution, ending with the announcement of Charlie’s pregnancy with CJ.


End file.
